I Will Be Waiting
by Das Lieblingsfach
Summary: Wherein Dave and Kurt actually have their first Prom King and Queen dance together, completely Abba-less. Implied Kurtofsky. Rating is for language.


**AN- **Written at 2 am and edited 6 hours later, so I apologize if this royally sucks. It just sort of came into being, seeing as how I wasn't at all pleased with how 'Prom Queen' wrapped up. This is more of what I would have liked to see happen instead of a) Kurt putting Dave on the spot like he did, b) 'Dancing Queen' being the song of choice, and c) Dave running away (though I completely understand why he did). I also snuck in some Karopez/Santofsky stuff because I really need more of that in my life and I really question whether they're going to do let it live to it's full potential or not in the canon.

**Disclaimer- **Regrettably not mine.

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><p>The awkward lull that had fallen over the gym was suffocating and all he could really do was bask in it.<p>

But he only had himself to blame for that. When Kurt had gone flying out of the gym –his coattails and kilt trailing behind him in the most elegant of ways, Dave had noticed- he had nearly done the exact same fucking thing. He understood how this was a less than-triumphant moment for the gay guy crowned _queen_, but it was plenty humiliating for the one in Narnia too.

He had chosen to stay, however. When it came down to it, he realized that remaining on the stage and taking the embarrassment like a man would be the first courageous thing he had ever done. He owed himself that. He owed _Kurt _that, even if he never did return from his dramatic exit.

Santana eventually reappeared, however, and that made him a bit more optimistic about Kurt doing the same. She came over to Dave almost immediately and reclined on his lap. As they had become more comfortable with each other in the course of their fake courtship, he had found that she was nothing if not very tactile. It was almost as if she _needed_ Dave to hold her hand, to cuddle her even when they were just watching a movie at one of their houses and didn't really need to keep up the appearance. She was often sad, he had noticed, and she had at some point decided that he would be responsible for comforting her. She had even gone so far as to refer to him occasionally as her 'over-sized teddy bear' and he couldn't very well argue the fact.

"It's not fair…" she whined, toying mindlessly with his tie and collar. "People are such douchebags…"

He simply nodded in genuine agreement and wiped some of the smeared mascara away from under her eye with his thumb. He knew in any other setting she would have scolded him for touching her face, but at this moment she simply sighed at his touch and curled closer into his chest.

"You'll always be queen bitch to me, Lopez," he whispered with a smirk. This elicited a reluctant laugh and a 'thanks' from her in return.

"I'm so upset, I'm not even going to laugh when you two have your first dance to 'Dancing Queen'," she said after a time.

"You've got to be kidding me…_that's _the song for the first dance?"

She nodded.

"No fucking way. If he comes back, there's no way we're dancing to that. Isn't _this _enough?"

"You're actually going to dance with him?" she asked, titling her head up to meet his eyes. Her tone was slightly ridiculing, but her face was pure shock and admiration.

He paused for a moment, fully realizing then that, _yes, he was going to dance with Kurt Hummel_- again, when and if he came back-. Why? He didn't know and he didn't really want to think about it. He'd made the decision already and it seemed right.

She seemed to gather the answer from his silence, and so she rose from his lap and gave him a knowing wink before sauntering over to have a word with the band. He could only hope and pray that she had his best interests at heart.

_She damn well better. She owes her fake, teddy-bear boyfriend something for all his trouble. _

And then Kurt came back in.

Dave noticed almost immediately, but then again, he was often rather adept at _noticing _Kurt. Not that it was particularly difficult, of course, given who he was. Still, it was the fact that Dave never found his eyes wandering too far away from the counter-tenor that had made him angry and defensive and violent all those months ago.

Perhaps the need for aggression had dissipated, but whatever strange thing he felt for the boy now ascending the stage steps obviously had not.

But then again, Dave thought as Kurt was crowned and handed the scepter, perhaps that's just the nature of him. He had always seemed to possess some kind of indefinable stage presence that could simply own a room -or a gym, in this case-. The crowd had hung on his every word and action from his announcement as Queen to his current coronation, and so it was apparent that _they _were just as spellbound by Kurt Hummel as Dave Karofsky was and had been for a good long while.

_Maybe. _Or maybe his admiration, as it were, was a bit different than theirs.

Kurt had cracked some joke and Dave honestly hadn't heard it over the inexplicable ringing in his ears. The crowd applauded and cheered and for one moment he didn't know whether he wanted to be taken-back, impressed, or green with envy.

It didn't really matter when Principal Figgins announced the first dance, because Dave's mind immediately went black and his throat dried up and his kneecaps felt like ectoplasm. He rose from his throne and adjusted the lapels of his rented tux nervously.

And, as per usual, he glanced at Kurt who, for the first time, happened to be looking back at him with what could only be described as a private smile. Dave had never felt more undeserving in his life.

The two of them then awkwardly maneuvered the steps down to the epicenter of the gym floor as the red sea of judgmental lookers-on parted. He knew he shouldn't have, but Dave looked at them anyway, studied their faces and tried to read what sorts of assumptions and insults they were no doubt conjuring.

He continued to do so up until he and Kurt faced one another. It was only then, when he was finally allowed to stare fixedly into the blue eyes that were being beautifully illuminated by the glow of the decorative lights, that the rest of the world began to disappear.

A simple guitar arrangement began to play -due to Puck, Dave would later find out- and Kurt smiled at him expectantly.

"I…I don't think I can do this…" Dave whispered. It was too much, all of it. He'd been stupid to think he could ever handle this. "I can't-not here…not in front of all of _them_…"

He didn't really realize his gaze had fallen to the hardwood floor until Kurt spoke.

"Hey…look at me."

This he did, trying in vain to stifle the influx of tears.

"We're just going to dance, David," Kurt said softly, still with his reassuring smile. "It's just you and me right now, okay? Forget about everyone else."

Dave nodded, knowing he needed to be brave but _fuck all _if it wasn't the most difficult thing he'd ever attempted. He gravitated towards the smaller boy, his arms outstretched a bit awkwardly, as if he somehow expected the mechanics of dancing with a guy to be wildly different from doing the same with a girl.

Kurt, sensing his insecurity immediately, took charge and placed Dave's hands where they needed to be on him for them to assume a simple waltz formation- one on Kurt's slight waist, the other, extremely clammy hand clutching his partner's. Kurt's remaining appendage found its way to Dave's shoulder.

"This is okay," he whispered. "_You're _okay."

Dave had to bite his lower lip to keep from breaking down right then and there. _Fucking be a man about this, Karofsky. Act like you have a fucking spine for once in your life. _

Santana's voice then began accompanying the guitar. Dave had never been more grateful to hear her sing. It reminded him of a few times when he'd been upset and she had let him lay his head in her lap and drift off while she sang and soothingly ran her long fingernails over his scalp.

_Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick and think of you _

_Caught up in circles confusion is nothing new _

_Flashback-warm nights-_

_Almost left behind_

_Suitcase of memories, _

_Time after-_

_Sometimes you picture me_

_I'm walking too far ahead_

_You're calling to me, I can't hear what you have said_

_Then you say-go slow-_

_I fall behind-_

_The second hand unwinds…_

"You're doing beautifully," Kurt mentioned, making sure to meet Dave's eyes.

Dave sniffed, completely unable to keep the tears at bay any more. His voice broke when he tried to thank him.

And so Kurt shifted his arm around Dave's shoulders and brought him into a tighter embrace, allowing himself to lay his still-crowned head in the vacant spot between his shoulder and chin.

Had this been even a week earlier, Dave might have pushed Kurt off and bolted right then and there, but _now_ things were somehow different. Maybe it was because Kurt had been so unbelievably kind and patient and forgiving since he had returned and Dave felt like he couldn't possibly ever repay that kind of unwarranted kindness, but he wouldn't have let Kurt Hummel go at that moment for anything in the world.

But even he knew -in that deep dark part of himself- that there was a selfish component to this as well. He was embracing _him _after all, something that only his subconscious mind had ever acknowledged he had longed to do.

_If you're lost you can look and you will find me_

_Time after time _

_If you fall I will catch you-I will be waiting_

_Time after time _

Dave gingerly leaned his own head against the pointy crown of his queen, allowing himself to wish that the crown were instead Kurt's soft, perfectly coiffed locks.

He also couldn't help but notice that other couples had gradually joined them in their aimless swaying. Dave would have had plenty of sarcastic, mocking thoughts about the way his fellow teenagers danced, but it was hard to think cynically about it when he was doing just that with Kurt –and secretly enjoying it immensely-.

Kurt smelled and felt different from Santana, Dave noticed, though he supposed that should come as no surprise. While Santana smelled very nice in her own feminine way, Kurt had a certain refined, sweet scent of musk that Dave found both addicting and surprisingly male. He would occasionally inhale deeply, hoping to imprint the smell in his memory as he doubted they'd ever be _this_ close again.

Kurt was also lithe and firm and angular instead of soft and curved. As Dave quickly realized he found the former much more appealing, he simultaneously had to inwardly sigh at how obviously gay he was.

There was no point in denial anymore. He was as good as out to himself- and Kurt, for that matter. And Santana.

Tomorrow, the whole school, he supposed.

But no- not yet. _Not quite yet_. Right now, it was just him and Kurt holding each other and moving to the melodic tone of Santana's singing, and that's all he had to think about- just Kurt, pressed against him, breathing soft, warm breaths onto the sensitive skin of his neck.

And it was then that he realized the nature of his feelings for the boy in his arms. Oh, he had always known, and had always pushed them deep, deep down into the safe confines of his being, hoping that maybe one day he'd push them deep enough to where they couldn't resurface. Now, however, he'd grown tired –exhausted, even- of doing that, just like he did with being cruel.

Now, he could own the fact that what he felt for Kurt was something so very similar to what most people describe as romantic affection. A crush, maybe? Yeah, he could call it that- to himself, anyway. A crush seemed safe, innocent. And right, somehow.

_So very right. Like being here, pressed against him. _

And then the song ended too soon.

The boys pulled away from each other gradually, with a certain unmistakable reluctance. Dave didn't know if it was mutual or not, but from the way Kurt's hands justly slowly melted off of his arms and his eyes sort of bored into his, he supposed it might have been.

Eventually, Kurt seemed to remember himself and stopped searching Dave's eyes in favor of laughing nervously and getting slightly pink in the face. Dave found this irresistibly adorable and he was sure that the smile working its way on his face was nothing short of goofy. This was confirmed when he caught Santana's eye briefly from across the room and she laughed heartily at him.

"You're a good dancer," Kurt managed, his voice a bit breathy and flustered.

"I didn't really do much of anything," he shrugged, before promptly removing the crown from his head. Kurt cocked an eyebrow and suddenly didn't seem as giddy.

"What're you doing?"

"I don't know if you've noticed, but this doesn't really fit me."

He locked eyes with him. "At least…not right now."

Dave then handed the crown to Kurt. "Maybe your boyfriend should wear it instead. I think he's more suited."

Kurt was stunned for a moment as he accepted it, his hands quivering noticeably. It took him a moment to realize what Dave's veiled words were referring to and, when he did, his mouth twisted into a disbelieving half-smile.

There was also something flickering in his light blue eyes that Dave had somehow failed to notice before.

"I think you'll grow into it someday," he said. "Until then…it'll be waiting for you with me."

Kurt then briefly took Dave's hand in his own and squeezed it gently, a sense of hope and promise in that simple gesture that made Dave's heart swell enormously.

And then the counter-tenor turned around and left to go re-join his neglected boyfriend. But Dave could only slightly lament the loss of his sweet-musk scent and lean form pressing against his torso.

One day, he was sure, he'd find the courage to be strong and remotely worthy enough for Kurt. It seemed apparent now that, when that day came, Kurt would still be waiting patiently for him with a better fitting crown.


End file.
